


Skye

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coffee, Coulson can't stop saying Skye, F/M, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Happy Ending, Hugs, Humor, Light Angst, Skoulson RomFest 2k15 REDUX, Skye swear jar, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Vacations, in the field together, kiss, superhero Skye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 05:56:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4379846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skoulson RomFest 2k15 REDUX - DAY 1 · 20 July - ‘I lost her'</p><p>When Coulson loses his hand and Skye changes her name, he wrestles with the idea of loss.  I got the idea from SDCC and the idea of them having a jar where someone adds money whenever they say Skye instead of Daisy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skye

“Agent Johnson, a moment?”  
  
She lagged behind while May and Bobbi filed out of the office.  
  
“Sir?” she asked, her fingers locked together behind her back.  
  
“When you have a chance,” he said, looking down at the open file on his desk, closed it. “I'd like you to review our threat assessment protocols.”  
  
“Is this in an official capacity?”  
  
“Yes. And no,” he said, standing, like he had somewhere else to be. “Your eye for finding exploits.”

 This was about the CATERPILLAR op, then.

She looked him over then held her hand out for the file.  
  
“Guess I should cancel my evening plans?”  
  
“ _Skye_ -“  
  
She smiled, then raised her eyebrows at him as he sighed.

Drawing his wallet out of his back pocket and loosening a bill, he turned and slipped it into the jar behind his desk on the shelf.

“You're _really_ slacking off lately,” she said, teasing, looking at the bills laying on the bottom of the jar.  
  
“Old habits,” he grumbled, handing the file over to her, his left hand covered in a glove.  
  
“Mmm,” she nodded, seeing he wasn’t going to take any more teasing.

“Anything else?”

“No. That will be all, agent,” he said, hiding his eyes.  
  
She turned to the door as he looked up, watching her make her exit.

 

#

 

“Let's make a deal,” he said, both hands on the gun, barrel pointed towards the floor.  
  
“You call me Phil, then we're even?”  
  
“Nice try,” she said, stepping around the corner, her hand out before her as the HYDRA guys flew away from them towards the wall. “Oh please, you two,” Hunter said over the coms. “Not this again.”  
  
“We had an agreement,” she reminded them all.  
  
They advanced together as Coulson covered their rear. 

“Another one coming right up on your rear, sir,” Hunter said.

Coulson took out the man with his ICER as he turned the corner. 

“Five more-“ Hunter started. “Wait, they dropped off.  They’re in a crawlspace above-“ 

She flattened against the wall as gunshots came from the ceiling above them, then stretched their ICERS towards each other and took out the two men coming up behind each of them, then switched positions and fired up into the ceiling above. 

“That’s four,” Coulson said, as the bodies hit the floor. 

“Where’s the other one hiding?” she asked. “It's like this whole place is booby trapped.”

“On your six,” Coulson shouted, looking at her facing him. 

She turned as he heard the bullet fire.  
  
It was like the world went into slow motion as the bullet passed her shoulder, distorted by the wave she’d just managed to push out, and sped up embedded in the wall.  
  
She took in a sharp breath as Coulson took down the target.  
  
“Skye!”  
  
Her hand came back from her shoulder red.  
  
“It's just a scratch,” she said, sharply.  “I've counted, what, four now?”  

“That’s just today,” Hunter added.

“Not amused,” Coulson said, glaring back at her. “Hunter are we clear?” 

“Phil,” she smirked. “You can take one away now.”  
  
He tried not to look elated. “One for one?” he challenged her. “I don’t think so.” 

“Fellow agents,” Hunter announced. “Can we focus more on the not getting shot and less on the flirting?” 

She smiled at him then they both turned their attention back to the corridor in front of them.

“Copy that,” they answered together.  

 

#  

 

“Simmons, did you get a good read on Skye's heart rate?”  
  
“I think you mean Daisy, sir?” she offered, looking over the data in the lab.  
  
“Yes, I meant Agent Johnson.”  
  
“You don't have to be _quite_ so formal,” Simmons said with a little shrug, walking back toward him to hand him the tablet.  
  
“How do you call her?” he asked, taking it from her.  
  
“Daisy,” she answered brightly, blinking back at him.  
  
“Simmons,” she said, appearing in her workout clothes, slightly sweaty.  
  
“How are the readings?” she continued, walking towards them, like she was ready for it.  
  
“Quite stable,” Simmons said, sounding pleased. “But, I'm sad to report our dear Director has slipped once again.”  
  
“Simmons,” Coulson hushed.  He looked at her, betrayed.  
  
“Rules are rules,” she grinned mischievously at the other woman.   
  
He looked at her in turn as she pulled her hair up on top of her head.   
  
“You _have_ been improving,” she finally offered, leaning forward on the medtable.  
  
“Thanks for your support,” he said dryly, looking away from her at Simmons.  
  
“I like rules,” Simmons sang out. “Will you be needing a bigger jar?  I probably have something around the lab that would suffice.”

“I might,” he answered defensively. “Ladies.”  
  
She watched him walk off.  
  
“He's enjoying this,” she said to Jemma, when he was gone.  
  
“Oh, he's just so fond of you. I'm sure you'll always be The S-Word to him,” she whispered. 

Skye kind of flinched at that.  “He asked me to call him ‘Phil’.” 

“Well, then,” Jemma said, clearing her throat, pushing her hair behind her ear as she said a tiny. “And did you?” 

“Yes,” she said, amused. “Mostly as a joke.  Hunter heard me.” 

“So it was _funny_ ,” Simmons nodded, smiling with relief. 

“I guess,” she said, staring back at the door again.  

“Should we look more closely over your results?” Simmons asked, changing the subject. 

“Right.” 

 

 #

 

“Rumor is your jar is all filled up.” 

“Rumor,” he smiled humorlessly. “How does that get to be a rumor?” 

“That I can’t say.  Are you trying to make a point?” 

“What do you mean?” he asked, looking over at May in her pilot’s seat. 

They were on their way to the Iliad for a face-to-face with Weaver. 

“It’s a little passive aggressive, that’s all,” she said.

“Because I still slip and call her Skye-“ he tried to catch himself. Too late. 

“Yes,” May interrupted. “She put Daisy Johnson in the file for a reason.” 

“I know,” he replied, frowning. “I’m just…adjusting.” 

She watched him self-consciously flex his left hand. 

“Are you worried your hand wasn’t the only thing you lost?” 

He sighed. “I didn’t lose her.” 

“I was there, Phil,” she said. “When you came back from the Retreat, do you remember what you said-“ 

“Yes,” he answered, staring out at the ocean stretching out below them.  

“And that there are tides in the universe we can’t swim against,” he added, looking back at her.

She nodded.

“Maybe it’s time to let _Skye_ go.”  

 

#  

 

“Daisy.” 

It was the first time he’d used that name.   

That sounded so _strange_. 

Mostly it was Agent Johnson with the occasional, okay, possibly somewhat frequent _Skye_ slip. 

“Sir,” she said, sitting with her coffee cup and tablet at the nearby table in his office. 

The steam was still coming up off of his own coffee cup, like he’d just started the day. 

The Daisy thing had thrown her off. 

She couldn’t help but glance up at the jar sitting on the shelf behind him.

Wow.  It looked really full. 

“Something I can help you with?” he asked, catching her eyes and picking up his cup to sip on the coffee. 

“Looks like you won’t be needing that jar anymore,” she said, tipping her head towards it. 

Swiveling in his office chair, he turned around to pick it up from behind him and lifted it onto the desk. 

“Wonder how much is in there?” he asked. “Guess we could find out.” 

She stood up and walked over to where he was making careful stacks of dollar bills in increments of ten. 

“I’m going to miss making you pay,” she teased, as he smiled a little privately to himself. 

“What are you planning on doing with it?” he asked. 

“Coulson,” she huffed. “I can’t take your money, it was just a joke.” 

“So, it’s mine then?” he answered back quickly. 

She clicked her tongue at him a little, seeming slightly disappointed.  

“Yes,” she nodded once, as he put the last stack down. 

“It’s about $133 dollars,” he said, tossing down the last three bills, fighting a smile at her. 

“That’s a lot of ‘Skye’s’,” she said, leaning forward with her arms propped on the edge of his desk. 

“It is.” 

“What would _you_ do with it?” she asked, breathing in sharply, breaking the silence between them as they watched each other. 

She noticed his brow furrow slightly, like he was working something out in his head. 

“I was thinking of asking Agent Johnson," he said, tapping his fingers on the desk, "…if she’d like to have a coffee with me sometime.” 

His fingertips came to rest on its edge like he was steadying himself. 

“Agent Johnson would say,” she began, circling the desk towards him. “That's _a lot_ of cups of coffee."

She laughed a little. "And. Okay.” 

Stopping just beside him he turned slowly towards her. 

“Okay?” 

“Well, only if you still call me Skye.” 

He looked so relieved, wrapping his arms around her he hugged her against him.   

She let her hands slip around his middle beneath his jacket and squeezed him back. 

“ _Skye_.” 

 

 #  

 

“Skye!” 

She ran up to him with her bag over her shoulder.   

“Sorry!” she said, handing him her heels. 

“We’re going to be late,” he said, taking the bag from her and throwing it in the trunk. 

“I know, I know. First time _ever_ in Asgard,” she said, looking around nervously. “Like, what do you even pack?” 

“Suits,” he said, dangling Lola’s keys in front of her. 

“You’re no help whatsoever,” she said, snatching them out of his hand and jumping into the driver’s seat. 

“Do you have the coordinates?” 

“Yes,” Coulson said, getting in and buckling as she turned over the engine and pulled out of the hangar. 

“It’s not far from here,” he said, putting her shoes on his lap. “Never done the Bifrost thing.” 

She laughed at him.

“Bet it’s your first Asgardian wedding, too.” 

“ _And_ that,” he smiled, looking down at the floorboard for a moment. “Thanks for agreeing to be my date.” 

“Are you kidding?!” she said.  

He stared back at her. “Go ahead.  Make your Thor joke.” 

“I was going to make a Steve Rogers joke. He’s going to be there too, right?” 

“Perfect,” he said, nodding, slipping on his aviators. 

“Phil,” she said, looking over at him. “You know I’m your Steve Rogers.” 

He smiled and shrugged.  “So sayeth the superhero.” 

“And they were totally cool with us bringing Lola?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “They have airships.  We can take her all above the city. I got an official Asgardian permit and everything.” 

She pulled off along the dirt road following the guidance system and brought Lola to a stop. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” she asked, and he went to say something, but she stopped him, pressing her finger to his lips.  

“Hold on.”

She took off his sunglasses and folding them, placed them in his jacket pocket. 

“Just the two of us, huh?” she leaned forward. 

“It’s a wedding.  There are lots of people.” 

“For a whole week, though,” she said, sliding her fingers down his tie. 

“ _Yes_.” 

“Good.”  She pulled him in for a kiss.  “Then we _really_ don’t want to be late.” 

He stared back, eyes locked on hers, and smiled. 

“Ready when you are, Heimdall.”        

 

 


End file.
